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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920696">5 Letters Between Henry Stein and Joseph Drew</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag'>Random_ag</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bendy and the Ink Machine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Best Friends, Gen, Letters, Pen Pals, Telegram, The Illusion of Living, henry and joey have fun at nathans expense: the movie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:41:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dear Henry,<br/> I hope this letter finds you and Linda well!</p>
<p> Personally, had God or whomever not cursed me with the inability to kill, esteemed mister Nathan Arch would currently have his permanent address at the local cemetery.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joey Drew &amp; Henry Stein</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>5 Letters Between Henry Stein and Joseph Drew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dear Henry,</p>
<p> I hope this letter finds you and Linda well!</p>
<p> Personally, had God or whomever not cursed me with the inability to kill, esteemed mister Nathan Arch would currently have his permanent address at the local cemetery.</p>
<p> It appears that people have taken… A <em>liking</em>, to me. (Do not worry, the fact that people <em>apparently</em> like me is not getting to my head, but it is making my hands tingle and my face look stupid with how widely smiley it is.) They are curious of the studios success, but even more specifically of mine - or should I say, just of <em>me.</em></p>
<p> Now.</p>
<p> I love attention.</p>
<p> I love being liked.</p>
<p> You know that.</p>
<p> But I don’t want people coming into my house, helping themselves to my fridge to drink all my milk straight from the carton like some kind of caveman and slithering into my bathroom cabinet to scrupolously examine every hair upon my toothbrush.</p>
<p> However, our common crusty acquantaince (who, do not fret, still looks just as forty years older than he truly is as you remember him - and may I add, each year that passes he wears his age worse) our old Nat I was writing, he decided that I should (read: must) write my own autobiography, recounting the entirety of my past from the exact second I was born in excruciating detail for the joy of the many who would love to stick and rub their nosy noses all over my business.</p>
<p> I can’t quite argue against what the public demands of him, which he then demands of me, as he enjoys reminding me I may hold everything to make the animated product as well as the product itself, but he has the money to make it. This doesn’t change that I don’t <em>want</em> to do it. At all. I loathe it. I hate it. I refuse to waste my time boring myself to death. I am back in school and the teacher has tasked me with writing an essay on the most stale, tiring, absolutely insipid of subjects and I can feel the calcium in my bones melting and shifting inside the tubes of flesh that are my limbs. It tingles. And it hurts. And I dont want to do this. I don’t want toooooooooooooooo I don’t WANNA I don’t wanna. No. Never. Not a chance. No. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm noooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I don’t wanna.</p>
<p> How are you? I hope well.</p>
<p> I send you a big hug, and one for Linda too.</p>
<p> With much love,</p>
<p>Joey</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dear Joey,</p>
<p> Your letter found me the usual: alright. Tired. Linda is doing good too, and she sends you a couple dried petals that should make this letter smell nice without choking you. She says this variety helps relaxing - since you were not particularly calm while writing.</p>
<p> I can’t blame you, really. Arch grabbed a can of beans and dumped it all over you without warning. I would be quite altered too. Although I doubt he would have asked something similar of me. He would have gotten about five pages for an entire book. I am… Not very good at communication. Especially when I should say something more than what is strictly necessary.</p>
<p> You’re good at that. Talking and writing a lot. Making stories. You <em>could</em> make a story. It has you name taped to the protagonist but it’s all complete fiction. Maybe not all of it. Most of it. Basically all of it. Truths here and there, drowned in fantasy. Sounds like something you might enjoy doing. People wouldn’t know your business. Arch would sell it. You would have fun. As I see it it would be a victory on all fronts. Yours especially.</p>
<p> I hope you know I love to listen to you through written words. It’s as if you were sitting right next to me.</p>
<p> We send a big hug right back at you.</p>
<p> Hope to hear from you soon,</p>
<p>Henry</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>To: Henry Stein</p>
  <p>From: Joseph Drew</p>
  <p>YOU GENIUS. LONG LETTER TO FOLLOW.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dear Joey,</p>
<p> I know the telegram said it would have been a long letter but oh boy I hit something in that clever head of yours and you went insane didn’t you. I did not expect five pages.</p>
<p> I will have to buy this book once it comes out. I can’t wait. The thought of it can’t leave my head. Just thinking of it makes me snicker. It will be the best comedy. People will be in awe of how you rose from rags to riches and I will be laughing on the floor.</p>
<p> The THOUGHT of putting notes by Arch which <em>he knows nothing about because they are written by you</em>. You mad man. What on Earth. Where did you even get that.</p>
<p> I keep reading it over again while writing this letter. It’s a work of art. It will be passed down like a heirloom. I am going insane. This is magnificent. Linda has not read it yet but I will make sure she does. I am crying. It’s fantastic. I love it. You genius. You evil genius. I am so glad you appointed me as your brother. I love you.</p>
<p> Happy writing,</p>
<p>Henry</p>
<p> </p>
<p>P.s. Linda read it and pointed out to me the part where you have been, apparently, a casanova your whole life, able to enthrall every man whom you have ever met safe for your relatives by the sheer power of existing. I am, indeed, among those men. I am crying. I have no idea why I have not mentioned it yet in this letter because it is magnificent. You insane little man. I love you so dearly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dear Henry,</p>
<p> I regret to inform you that Nat argued that I cannot write about legions of men desperate to be swept in the loving embrace of my arm and kissed silly by my ugly tooth gapped face because it would “make a scandal” that might “accuse him of despicable godless behaviour” which could “force him to close down” (read: he is a coward, and also jealous that I am definitely the apex of male perfection which all men desire, while he is more reminiscent of a slice of rotten zola cheese left to die and wither in the sun.)</p>
<p> As such I have instead elected to eliminate any and all heterosexual behaviours from every single one of my interactions with any other human being.</p>
<p> I am going to build a temperamental subtext that is so thick you would need a fabled blade like that of Excalibur to begin to even make a dent in it. The pages are going to ooze and drip relentlessly with my attraction towards men. I will make it so horrendously obvious to the point of driving to nausea. Every moment I am depicted with an unknown woman who might like me I will make my discomfort so clear it will be blinding. I will refer to you (if it does not cause you discomfort - I completely forgot about asking for your thoughts about being featured as a character this way in my first letter) only like a scorned lover who has been left and betrayed. I will elevate Sammy to a god and pretend that I find rancid men who smoke deeply masculine and strong and interesting and filled with dignity and testosterone just for the sake of stressing the fact that I am not interested in women. I will <em>flirt</em>. With <em>Bertum Piedmont</em>.</p>
<p> I am having the time of my life.</p>
<p> I love you so much. Bless you for giving me this idea. I will send you a copy as soon as it’s out. I can’t wait to finish this.</p>
<p> Yours,</p>
<p>Joey</p>
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